


Wine and Sweet Words

by ishtarelisheba



Series: Better to Face the Bullets 'verse [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Hunted Cricket - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishtarelisheba/pseuds/ishtarelisheba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot of domestic fluff for Hunted Cricket in my BtFtB 'verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wine and Sweet Words

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt - _anonymousnerdgirl said: "When the time is right would you consider doing a one shot about Graham and Archie? Maybe when Archie gave Graham that knife..."_

Archie only heard the front door when it thumped shut.

He was still growing accustomed to silent door hinges. They’d stopped bothering him months ago, but it had taken nearly a year for the sound to wear through Graham’s last nerve. He’d spent an afternoon with their front door out of the jamb, relieving the bits of brass from rust and applying oil.

It was the trade-off of owning their own little house on the end of a row. The risk of being ousted by a suspicious landlord no longer kept Archie awake at night, and the gabled two-and-a-half stories gave them far more room than his cramped flat, but repairs were up to the two of them. He was thankful that Graham was more inclined toward fiddling with things until they were serviceable again. If it were left up to Archie alone, there would be pots catching roof leaks and screaming hinges all over the house.

The small sounds of Graham’s bicycle being rested up against his own in the little anteroom, and his coat being hung on the rickety coat rack were easier to discern. Archie smiled. The house felt warmer, with Graham’s noise.

Their home was one of scandalously late dinners. It couldn’t be helped, the hours the two of them worked. When Graham worked nights - as he had the previous one - Archie simply made a sandwich for himself from preparations kept by in the icebox. And as cooking was Archie’s bailiwick, if he had to stay exceptionally late or go out of town, Graham was more likely to stage a raid on whatever sweets were in the house and call it dinner. This evening, Archie had done a rare thing in leaving the hospital a couple of hours early.

“Don’t go into the biscuit jar,” Archie warned without looking as he heard footsteps behind him. When he could spare a look away from the stove, he found Graham already wrist-deep into the Willow pattern jar on the counter.

Graham hesitated not in the least. “Don’t be silly. I couldn’t fit.”

“Graham, I’ve got a chicken in the oven.”

“Better had let it out, then!” Graham leaned next to the icebox, giving him a daring look. He ate the piece of shortbread in one bite.

Archie gave him a look of exasperation, but the effect was ruined by the smile just below it. “If you ruin your appetite…”

“Hm?” Graham hummed. He dusted the crumbs from his fingers on the hip of his uniform and pushed away from the counter. “You’ll what? Are we headed for idle threats now?”

Archie laughed aloud, unable to hold it in. “What you’re headed for is a good spanking,” he shot back, managing to make himself blush right to the tips of his ears.

“And I am absolutely _terrified,”_ Graham replied, wrinkling his brow dramatically before giving Archie a grin.

Archie shook his head. He had dinner to finish and an important surprise to arrange, if he could get Graham out of the room so that he could set the table. “Since my extra hands are home, the fire needs to be stoked. The night’s to be a crisp one.”

“Now, _that_ is a fine idea.” Graham nodded, sidling away from the counter.

Archie expected him to walk behind, to fetch a few pieces of wood off the back stoop, to get the fireplace in the sitting room blazing a bit higher. He was better at the entire process of arranging the logs so that they didn’t attempt a getaway when they began crumbling to coals.

But then there was an orderly pressed against his back and winding arms about his waist, and a kiss pressed behind his ear. He felt the short scruff of Graham’s beard graze rough against the side of his neck, making warmth pool in his belly that he did his best to ignore. It took a moment for Archie to remind himself that he should be keeping an eye on the pots on the stove, instead of leaning back into Graham. 

“The fire in the _hearth,_ Graham,” Archie said, but he could keep the smile neither off his face nor from his voice. “What has gotten into you?”

“Glad to be home.” Graham leaned his chin on Archie’s shoulder. Once they stepped out the door in the mornings, they had to pretend. But here, it didn’t have to be stolen seconds and furtive looks. Here, he could get his arms around Archie as often as he wanted. “Last night was a difficult one.”

Archie raised a hand to curl comfortingly into Graham’s hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, feeling more than hearing him sigh.

Graham turned his head so that he didn’t gasp a cavernous yawn right into Archie’s ear. “Nothing _too_ out of the ordinary. Only one of those nights. With the exception of Nurse Halloran.”

“What happened?”

“’Round about two this morning, she went in to perform checks. Tripped over her feet, dropped her lantern.” Graham chuckled tiredly. He gave Archie a firm squeeze, dropped a kiss on his shoulder, and went back for another bit of shortbread.

Archie turned to look at him full-on, frowning. The spoon he held came out of the pot, dripping bread sauce onto the wood floor. “Was she hurt?”

“No, no, she’s all right. She caught herself. There was no harm done, save to the lamp. It was at the front of the ward, all on the tile. The fire had nowhere to spread.”

Archie’s eyes widened in alarm. _“‘The fire’?”_

“Dropped lantern,” Graham repeated, nodding. “The kerosene? It caught when the reservoir broke. It was nearly empty; I put it out with a towel. Got the oil and glass up, but I’ll have to scrub the scorch marks Monday.”

“Good Lord,” Archie sighed. Graham spoke as if it were an offhand thing. He turned back to the stove, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “That could have been a disaster.”

Graham took a cloth and ducked to wipe the dots of sauce from the floor next to Archie’s feet. “It wasn’t, though,” he assured.

Archie bent to check the oven, prodding the chicken with a knife. “As soon as the carrots are done, dinner will be ready.”

“I’ll go and stoke the fire.” Graham dropped the cloth back into the sink, grinning as he walked behind Archie. “The one in the hearth.”

Graham returned smelling of dried oak and scorched air, his front overwarm from standing so near the fire. He felt wonderful against Archie’s back as his arms wrapped around again. Sometimes, only in his own private thoughts, he thought the word ‘husband’ and it made his heart thump. He wished it were a possible thing, but it was barely imaginable.

“You certainly are going to a lot of trouble, for a Friday night,” Graham observed. He reached to take one of Archie’s hands in his, lifting it and the spoon from the pot along with it, and ran his fingertip across the back of the utensil for a taste. “Oh, that’s good…”

 _“Just_ a Friday night,” Archie said with a quiet laugh. When Graham didn’t reply, he looked over his shoulder. Graham looked innocently back. He hadn’t remembered last year… Had he really forgotten again?

“Why don’t you go and change into something that hasn’t been to the hospital?” Archie asked, hoping to get him out of the room for a while.

Graham gave a put-on sigh and curled an arm tightly around Archie’s waist, swaying them. “I’ll only be back out of it in an hour.”

“Aren’t we optimistic?” Archie gave him a cheeky grin, pleased when Graham laughed and swatted at his hip before going.

Archie waited for a moment, listening until he heard the wardrobe door close. He set the sauce off the stove and stepped over to the cupboards.

The cake had been hidden safely away in the bottom cupboard next to the sink since picking it up on his way home. He could have made it himself, but he neither had time, nor had he any hope of doing anything more than performing a very utilitarian assembly. He’d wanted something a bit fancier, and the bakery had obliged with tinted icing and sugar flowers.

He fished a packet of tiny candles and a small, wrapped box out from behind an infrequently-used serving dish. Placing them on the kitchen table next to the cake, he quickly went about setting the usual dinnerware.

Graham came back in just as Archie finished arranging everything, pulling his collar straight. He stopped short upon seeing the table, uttering a soft, “Oh…”

Archie stood back, beaming. “Today is-”

“Yeah. I guess it is.” A slow smile crossed Graham’s face as he realized.

Archie’s childhood had been none too pleasant, but at least his birthday had been remarked upon. Graham had suffered a great number his own hardships as an orphan - one being never having had someone to celebrate him. That wasn’t something Archie had been willing to allow to continue.

Graham reached for the cake, and Archie grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the table and into a short, hopefully distracting kiss. “Dinner first. Or the chicken will dry out.”

“If I weren’t so tired, I’d find something to say about that.” Graham’s smile was soft and filled with warmth, and he kept Archie close by holding onto his trouser pockets. 

Eventually, he had to let go. He helped to bring everything to the table, and the meal went quickly. Graham’s eyes strayed to the cake and the little package next to it, but Archie was insistent on getting a real meal in him before he had more sweets.

Archie collected the plates on his side of the table before getting up to go around to Graham’s side, taking the chair next to him. Graham’s impatience showed when the candles were in the process of being placed, as he began frisking Archie for a box of matches. He knew they were on his person somewhere - Archie was too well-prepared to be without them handy.

Between the two of them, narrowly avoiding a burned finger and singed sleeve in Archie’s laughter and Graham’s hurry, they got the candles lit. Archie watched Graham as Graham watched the tiny flames for a moment before taking a breath to blow them out.

Graham never remarked on his wishes when he made them, and Archie didn’t ask. He’d volunteer it later, when the house was dark and quiet. 

Archie served cake onto the waiting saucers while Graham opened his present, watching his face more than he paid attention to the slices he cut.

Graham pulled the bit of string loose from the small, oblong box, setting the scrap of brown paper covering it aside. He was peering inside before getting the lid completely lifted away. “Archie!” he said, dropping the box onto the table once he held the contents in his hand. 

It was a pocketknife - heavier than it looked, cherry panels set into each side along the handle. He ran his fingers over the subtle design carved into the wood before opening it. One side boasted a large clip blade, and a shorter spear point unfolded from the other. Graham skimmed the pad of his thumb across the edge of the clip blade, savoring the slight thrill it sent along the skin of his hand. He’d never had a knife so sharp. His own was a secondhand single blade, so old and well-used that its width suffered for being sharpened away. 

“Wait,” he said. “Wait, wait…” He set the knife on the table, searching himself. After a moment, he turned up a penny in his waistcoat pocket, and he slid it over to Archie. “Bad luck, without one.”

Archie shook his head, but he took the coin. 

Graham reached up, cupping his hand at Archie’s neck, thumb against the line of his jaw. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to. You deserve to have a birthday,” Archie told him quietly, hands moving to rest on Graham’s knees. “You deserve a great many things, but celebrating your birthday is something I can give.”

“Thank you, cricket,” Graham murmured softly, enjoying the way Archie’s cheeks pinked at the pet name, and he leaned close for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> (Takes place between chapters 15 and 16 of main fic.)


End file.
